


Back At Your Door

by MissMagenta92



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: A bit OOC at times, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, seriously this is so sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMagenta92/pseuds/MissMagenta92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Ending C- Trevor comes home to Sandy Shores and instead of seeing his mother, he sees a face that’s all too familiar….</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys- I basically had this fic rattling around in my head one night and had to get it out of my system. It's probably the sappiest, fluffiest work I've written to date but if there are people who like it then I might continue it :D The title comes from 'Back At Your Door' by Maroon 5, which is what I listened to while writing this and it reminds me of Michael and Trevor for some reason. I just want them to love eachother dammit, haha!
> 
> This is an AR where Amanda has filed for divorce after being held at gunpoint by Merryweather.
> 
> I do not own GTA V, its locations or any of its characters as they’re all owned by Rockstar. Hope you like it!

Trevor drove up the Senora Freeway feeling free, truly free what seemed to be the first time in months. Trevor Philips Industries was in full bloom thanks to successfully eradicating Johnny K, his junkie girlfriend and the merry band of idiots that were The Lost MC, the reasons sterilisation and contraceptives were created (otherwise known as the O’Neil Brothers) and the Aztecas. His criminal empire had truly become an empire by exporting his product to the north in his homeland of Canada to the south in Mexico, realising his dream of becoming an international drug and arms dealer. If that wasn’t enough, he now had millions in his bank account thanks to the one job he’d never believed he’d complete- The Union Depository had made him rich and made him a legend. And now, he was free from Wei Cheng, Steve Haines and Devin Weston, all prime pieces of shit in their own right that got by by exploiting the little guy and making it seem like a great idea to those who didn’t know better. Cheng was splattered against the freeway, Haines had checked out in front of the camera filming his shitty show,  Weston’s fried remains were washed out into the ocean and now, Trevor was free and staring at a blood orange- coloured sunset tucking itself away behind Mount Gordo.

However that wasn’t what mattered.

In the past few months he’d found new friends and loyal running buddies in Franklin and Lamar and had managed to reconnect with the children he’d thought to be long gone years ago- Jimmy and Tracey, now both adults whom still remembered their Uncle T with great affection. More important than anything though, he’d found the man whom he’d loved, lost and grieved for nine years before.

Driving along the dusty, desolate road leading to Sandy Shores, he remembered the anger that coursed through his system the day he saw that goddamn news report- _‘Some fucker is using Michael’s words, those aren’t his fucking words to use!’_ was the first thought that appeared to him as he pulled his softening cock out of Ashley. He was so furious that he stomped Johnny K into the side of the road, shot up The Lost and drove Ortega’s trailer into a creek, because it was far easier to do that then say ‘My best friend may be alive and if so, he faked his death and didn’t bother to contact me for years.’ He did anything to try to kill whatever feelings he was having, whether it was the anger that some imposter was going around using the same stupid line that Michael used on those who got in the way or hope that the only person he’d truly loved was still alive and maybe, just maybe he’d finally get his chance to come clean with his best friend about how he felt.

The day he showed up to his house was a doozy to say the least- his eyes met Michael’s and while his face had more wrinkles and his belly became rounder, he was the same person underneath. He could feel his heart clench with all the hurt, the anger and the affection he held for the man in front of him- he wanted to shake and punch him for leaving him so long ago but at the same time, he wanted to throw his arms around him and just breathe in his scent; something tangible that would indicate that he was alive, that he wasn’t going away this time.

Of course he couldn’t do any of this as they had to rescue Tracey from the unscrupulous Lazlow, but at that point in time, it was enough to just have his friend back. Maybe he would never get over the pain of the North Yankton heist but for the moment then, the one whom had his heart was back in his life, even if his wife was still an ungrateful, selfish bitch.

He felt alive as opposed to existing- scoping out the freighter for top secret and incredibly valuable cargo, acting as a lackey for the FIB, even robbing the bank in Paleto Bay, he felt the closer to being happy for the first time in years and it was all because he was by Michael’s side. However despite Amanda, Tracey and Jimmy abandoning him, he didn’t feel right jumping in and declaring his undying love for his friend- it was too soon and as much as the thought saddened him, he couldn’t deal with Michael’s rejection. Not then when they were only just starting to reconnect.

Going back to North Yankton was one of the hardest things he ever did. It wasn’t realising that he’d been writing to a ghost that hurt him, it was realising that the one person he would have given anything to make sure was safe and happy had not only lied to him for nine years, he would have happily put him in the ground as he’d done with Brad. It made Michael’s admission that he’d missed him tighten like a vice around his heart- would he mourn like Trevor had? Would he try to drink, smoke and fuck away his pain like he had? He’d yelled at him to pull the trigger and when he hadn't, it was just one more betrayal to add to Michael’s ever-growing list.

He did the only thing he knew how to do- he ran and flew back to Sandy Shores and didn’t flinch when Wei Cheng called him, telling him that he’d kill his ‘boyfriend’. He couldn’t help but laugh- that was all he’d ever wanted but now all he wanted was for Michael to feel the same pain as he had. There were many nights afterward where after Michael’s subsequent rescue, he’d sit outside of the Rockford Hills mansion that his treachery had earned him, wondering if he should kill him as he did those stupid yoga poses or watched those damn movies. However as he saw him meet with those shitbags Haines and Norton through the scope of his sniper rifle, he felt his loyalty creep back into his system; he had no choice in protecting Michael and knew one day the same damn loyalty would kill him.

Amidst all the bodies, he fumbled around an excuse that he wanted to complete the Union Depository job but really, deep down he didn’t want to see Michael to die the way Trevor thought he had back in North Yankton; for his faults and fuckups, he deserved better than to be killed by some fucking federal agent. They both deserved one last hurrah. Trevor’s heartache had to have _meant_ something, had to have some kind of payoff. The rest, they say, is history.

As he drove past the broken sign saying ‘Sandy Shores’, he felt content with his life. Sure he wasn’t _heart-soaring-over-Mount-Chiliad_ happy but he had his best friend back in his life, even if he would never know exactly how much Trevor had missed him over the years. He’d missed the twist of a bottle cap on a beer after a job well completed, he missed having to huddle together in a shitty motel room on the run from jobs and he missed those shitty Old Vinewood lines he’d use during heists. It was enough to have Michael back in his life, even though he’d never get to feel the warmth of his body willingly against his own or the words “I love you” slip out of his mouth. Mikey just wasn’t like that.

He turned a corner onto Zancudo Avenue, spotting an incredibly familiar black Tailgater parked right out the front of his trailer. Michael was there but why? They’d finished off Weston and as such, they’d all agreed to part as “flawed, awful, totally uncomfortable, and  _poorly matched friends_.” That was it, it was going to be the odd outing to a bar or to the Vanilla Unicorn as buddies, if that- not showing up at one another’s doorsteps after offing one of the richest men in Los Santos.

Turning the wheel, he pulled into his driveway, catching a glimpse of Michael sitting on the doorstep leading up to his porch. He could feel his stare burning into him as he opened the door of his dusty red Bodhi, stepping out into the ground. Michael in turn stood on his own feet.

“Mikey? What the hell are you doing here?”

The look on his face was solemn and serious. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that someone had died- without their aid of course.

“I came to see you.”

The Canadian furrowed his brow, confused. They had agreed to _part_. That gave him some indication that there’d be no random drop-ins over at one another’s homes. He expected to not hear from Michael for a while until maybe a chance meeting at the Vanilla Unicorn, leading to a beer or two back in his office. Just because he was back in his life didn’t mean they’d be seeing eachother on the same frequency as they had, for safety reasons as well as personal ones. Jesus, they were all suspects in the murders of four rather prominent individuals (Stretch was still an OG, as small-time as he was)- they need to lay really goddamn low if they were going to get away from this one without landing themselves in a cell.

“You didn’t even know if I was going to be back here or not- I could’ve stayed at the club for all you know. I could be out smoking meth or fucking a working girl for all you know.”

Michael breathed through his nose once, listening what was being said. “Or you could have come home. There’s that too.”

 _Home_. The way he said it implied they shared a home. They didn’t and never would. Not while Amanda was still around, not while Michael remained adamant that he liked women. A bitter pill to swallow but really not the nastiest thing he’d ever ingested.

“…How long have you been waiting here Michael?” he’d lowered his voice down from the usual aggressive bark that he adopted in his day-to-day life.

The plumper man stayed silent for a moment before answering. “A while.”

“Why are you here? Wasn’t it you who waxed poetic about laying low and getting on with our lives?”

“Yeah, it was, uh…” He sighed, pressing onto his temples with his thumb and index finger, then moving his hand down over his mouth. He looked up at the sky for a moment before facing Trevor. “This is really hard for me to say, T. I want to say it but I’m…I don’t know…”

An incredulous look spread across Trevor’s face. “Well spit it out sugar.”

Michael’s eyes darted around everywhere, looking for something or someone else to answer for him. He had to do this, he knew that- that’s why he drove a cool couple of hours over green hills and through scrub to get to Trevor’s ramshackle trailer. Now wasn’t the time to return to his method of ‘leaving it and hoping everything will work out’; the litany of shit he’d been dealt within the past nine years could be chalked up to him opting to put up with the shitty status quo as opposed to changing it. No…he needed to do something.

“I’m sorry for what happened all those years ago…I thought I was doing the best thing for my family but it just led to a whole heap of shit- shit in this goddamn city…”

Hearing the words come out of Michael’s mouth made him unsure of how to feel- it would never absolve him of all the heartache he’d suffered over the years but it was a start. Hell, it was more of a start than he’d ever been afforded in his life.

“There were so many times I stared at the phone wanting to call you…I missed you T. I missed us- when you turned up at my house…I dunno man, it was like I was woken up from a monotonous nightmare I’d been living.”

Trevor tried his hardest to not let his heart run away from him- the last time Michael said he’d missed him was just before he’d ran out of the house, screeching out of his driveway on his way to North Yankton to dig up Brad’s body. This could’ve been more spin, more lies…the thought invoked a steely guard that he adopted whenever threatened.

“What about Amanda?” He managed.

“We’re getting a divorce, T. Happened after Merryweather raided my house.” He chuckled one of those disbelieving chuckles you hear when your buddy is telling you something outrageous that happened to a friend-of-a-friend. “Want to know what the really weird thing is? I’m happy to let her go. When you came back, you opened me up to the lie I’d been living. I don’t want macchiatos and yoga. I don’t want paleo dieting or fucking pilates either.”

Michael took a few steps forward, swallowing before looking Trevor right in the eye. “I love you, Trevor. I always have.”

Trevor shut his eyes tightly, trying to process what Michael had just admitted. For years, he’d wanted more than anything for Michael to feel the way he did; the day he told him that he’d gotten Amanda pregnant and was planning on marrying her had almost torn him up. He remembered the night clearly- after Michael had made his way back to the dingy little trailer he and that gold-digging whore shared, Trevor had torn off into town in his truck and shot up a gas station. The day they ripped off the bank in North Yankton…there were no words for the pain he felt when he saw Michael lying against the snow, clutching his abdomen- to this day, he hadn’t experienced the pure anger coursing through his veins as he did on that day, not even when he heard the word ‘motherfucker’. Now, Michael was alive, well and in front of him, telling him he loved him and with all of their old baggage and the new, he didn’t quite know how to deal with it.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just needed for you to hear that. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt you and I can’t promise that I won’t piss you off or fight with you in the future, but if you’ll have me, I won’t disappear. Not again.”

The scarred Canadian rubbed his eyes. If there was one thing he truly hated, it was uncertainty and Michael seemed to deal it out in spades. While he would’ve loved nothing more than to be able to hold him just to know that he wasn’t dead and wasn’t going away like he always did, he was still marred by the past. Even beyond that, it wasn’t like Michael was particularly loyal or affectionate towards Trevor- what would happen the next time the Feds got onto them? What would happen the next time Dave needed an arrest and Michael wanted out of the life? What would happen when he missed his kids? Trevor couldn’t and wouldn’t allow himself to go through that all over again.

Just thinking of what had happened back then sent pure unadulterated spite through his system. “It’s always about you isn’t it? You fail to realise that I carried on just fine without you. I _survived_ without you. I may have been writing to your old pal Davey all these years but I got over you. I moved on. You may say you love me Mikey but I know you- what happens when you get bored of being with me? You don’t know what you want and probably never will and I can’t wait for you to finally make up your mind on whether you want me or not. I do not need you.”

He took a deep breath, doing everything he could to not let out all the emotions that he wanted to. He’d always found beating someone’s skull in with a crowbar far easier than saying “You’ve offended me” so this was far, far out of his comfort zone. He couldn’t beat up Michael, why would he? For telling him that he loved him? The whole idea of them being together became more of a mess with each second that ticked painfully by. Their whole relationship was shades of grey in between, no black and white. Michael loved him but had treated him like a rash he’d picked up and couldn’t get rid of. Trevor loved him but couldn’t believe the same of Michael because of what happened back in Ludendorff. Had he been alone, he would have been throwing bottles of Pisswasser at the walls with furious tears creeping down his cheeks.

Michael didn’t once break his eye contact with Trevor. “I know. I know you can live without me T. I’m not here to make out like you’re going to be worse off without me or anything like that…it’s me that’s going to be worse off without you.”

He took a few steps forward, breaching the personal space reserved for platonic friends. “You were my family first. Before Amanda, before Tracey and Jimmy and I let you down. I’ll never forgive myself for that but…” he swallowed, his voice becoming slightly unsteady “You’re the only one who accepts me as I am and I love you as you are. It’s _me_ that needs you, Trevor. I know that now.”

Trevor fought his hardest to not cry, he couldn’t cry in front of Michael. “You’ve never liked men though…You’ve always been a tits-and-pussy guy…” his voice had crept down to an embarrassingly low whisper.

“That probably will never change T, I’ll be honest- but with you, I do not give a shit that you’re a man, I do not _care_ that you’re a man. It wouldn’t matter if you were a man or a woman, I’d still love _you_. Just you. As you are.”

The two men were now dangerously close, with Trevor feeling like he’d just been run over by a truck. Matters of the heart had never really agreed with Trevor Philips, as evidenced by his sobbing while driving Patricia back home to a husband that didn’t deserve her. As such now, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

Michael huffed before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, exposing a small tuft of chest hair beneath it. He’d poured out his heart to the man and was only met with skepticism. ‘ _I suppose I deserve it’_ , he thought to himself as he felt the buttons pop free from their holes. He needed to show him that he meant every single word he said, as hard as it was for him to say, finally. Man, if only Dr Friedlander was there now.

He took the other man’s hand gently, placing it over his left pec and sending what felt like electric sparks though Trevor’s fingers. His skin was so warm and comforting- the mere temperature of the man’s skin was enough to make Trevor’s chest tighten as he felt the _tha-thump_ of Michael’s heartbeat.

“You feel that T? You did that. Just you. No one else. Whether you choose to be with me or not, I’ll fight for you. I’ll love you, I’ll kiss you, I’ll hold you, I’ll take you out on dates like normal people if that’s what you want,”

“Stop.” Trevor spat out, bitterly. “Just stop. Right now.”

Five words were all it took to send fear consuming every part of Michael. He couldn’t smooth talk his way back into Trevor trusting him and he had nothing that Trevor wanted to barter with. God…the very thought that he could somehow barter for his affection just set what he already knew in stone- _‘You do not deserve him.’_ His life had descended into a shitpile because he’d always tried to bargain and reason and wheel and deal his way out of dealing with any kind of consequences- why should this have been any different?

Trevor could feel his beaten and scarred exterior begin to break, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. The only thing he knew was right. He pulled Michael in quickly by the collar as if he were going to beat his face in until it was a bloodied pulp. Before either of their minds could convince them that this was a bad idea, he crushed their lips together into a searing, ravenous kiss.

Their surroundings didn’t matter. Their snipes and daily exchanges of snark didn’t matter either. They’d been over a barrel these past few months and it had become clear that they just plain didn’t want the other gone. Trevor clutched at Michael’s collar and ran his thumb across his cheek while Michael’s fingers scrunched Trevor’s shirt, trying to pull him closer.

“Twenty years, Mikey….” Trevor breathed in between kisses. “I’ve loved you for twenty years.”

“So have I…” Michael kept feverishly kissing everywhere he could- lips, cheeks, forehead, neck.  “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t say anything until now.”

Trevor pulled away for a moment, putting his hands on each side of Michael’s face with his thumbs resting on his temples. His eyes were closed as he rested his forehead against the other man’s, taking a few moments to just slow down from the frantic maelstrom of feelings and kisses they had exchanged. “You’re not allowed to leave me, M. If you’re with me, you’re in it for the long haul. No fucking off when times get too hard and no running after the first pair of fake tits you see.” It had come out as a threat but the truth was Trevor was terrified. He’d already lost the man he loved twice- once to Amanda, the second to the witness protection program. He wasn’t going to aim for a third.

Michael ran his thumb along Trevor’s cheek, smiling to one side. In his entire marriage to Amanda, all he wanted was to feel missed; to not feel like a man that could be interchanged with say, a tennis instructor or a yoga instructor or a teacher or a gardener. He knew Trevor better than anyone else; when he loved something, he didn’t go down without one helluva fight. It’s why they’d exchanged hoarse screams on the night he dropped the news that Amanda was pregnant and he’d already bought a ring for her- whether he liked it or not, Trevor was a life sentence that he couldn’t run away from.

“You have me. I’m not gonna run this time, T. I only want you, ‘til I’m in the grave for real.”

He pulled Trevor back in for a softer, slower, more languid kiss, inhaling his scent as he did so. As busted-up as Trevor looked, he had a scent of lemon and chemical sweat that seemed to permeate the air when in close quarters. It was an intoxicating combination that he just couldn’t seem to shake, much like the man himself.

“Stay with me Mikey…please? I want you to stay with me tonight.” Trevor whispered earnestly; he’d spent so long in an empty bed, wishing Michael was beside him- when they had to share after kidnapping Patricia, it was so hard to keep himself from rolling over and wrapping his arm around his waist while he slept. He needed to wake up of a morning and know he was there.

Michael nodded, slipping his fingers inbetween Trevor’s and walking with him towards the steps leading to his trailer porch. Tucked away near the top of the stairs was a box with ‘Impotent Rage’ strewn across the top.

“This is from that show you like, right? This is the one that broke?”

He handed Trevor the box and in turn, Trevor stared at it in awe. This was greater than any box of chocolates, any bouquet of roses, any diamond necklace. It wasn’t so much that he’d gotten a replacement for the statue broken by the Lost; Michael had known that Impotent Rage was his favourite. He’d actually listened to him prattle on about how much he loved the show. He listened to him instead of resorting to the same old stock methods of romanticism.

“It’s perfect.” Trevor said before craning his neck around to plant a soft kiss on Michael’s lips.

“Come on….we have a long night ahead of us.” Michael said with a wink and a smile that seemed like the only smile he’d cracked in years. Trevor couldn’t help but smile one of those devious smiles with the top row of his teeth- the kind that he reserved for the target of a predatory kill or for those whom he wanted between his legs.

“You know it, Sugartits.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, that was an odyssey to finish! I wrote this under the influence of shitty pop music and many, many late nights, so my apologies if it's cheesy as hell/riddled with errors. Still, I hope you all like it!

The two men crossed the threshold with anticipation and nervousness. Anticipation on both of their parts as they’d soon be doing what both of them had only dreamt about, stood under cold showers over and rubbed one out to for all these years. Michael couldn’t count all the times Trevor’s image had come to him on lonely nights where Amanda had clearly gotten her fill from someone else- he’d slink off into the bathroom, open the fly and pull out his cock, thinking of that mischievous grin that he’d wear during a job, that body that seemed to be carved out of pure rage, violence and any drug he could get his hands on…there was only one Trevor Philips in the world and he’d traded him in for a woman who didn’t appreciate their marriage. What was happening now used to be the object of dreams, bought upon by scotch and loneliness.

In a twisted way, it was similar for Trevor, although his longing for Michael came out of mourning. After pulling a job on a gas station, supermarket or some other register in some other nowhere town, he’d trawl the streets looking to browse the trade. The ones whom looked most like Mikey got to come back to whatever dingy motel room he was holding up in- there was no intimacy, no love; just a painful reminder that Michael was gone once they started counting the money he’d left on the bed. Pretty twisted to be fucking copies of his thought-to-be-dead buddy but hey, you do what you can to keep the cold, empty solitude at bay. There’s no pride in pain.

Despite all the lonely wanks, the thoughts of one another to try and get through a monotonous fuck, the nights spent dreaming they’d wake up and find the other beside them and just plain missing eachother, here they were, in Trevor’s barely-lit trailer with their fingers entwined and their hearts beating like the ceaseless thrum of someone’s fingers against a hard surface. This was going to be their first time together and it was enough to throw both men back into feeling like nervous teenagers again.

As soon as Trevor closed the door behind him, Michael swung around, planting a heated kiss on the other man’s lips. Now that they’d crossed that barrier between friends and lovers, there was no way he’d ever get over kissing him; even in a city that he didn’t understand or connect to in all the nine years he’d been there, Trevor felt like home.

Trevor felt around the man’s hip, up his back and through his thick, black hair, pulling on it slightly in trying to bring him in closer. He could feel the man’s heartbeat thumping through his coat along to the same rhythm as it had outside and it brought about a warmth within him that hadn’t been there in a really long time.

“Bed. Now.” The Canadian breathed, resulting in Michael stepping backward through the doorway, pulling Trevor with him. The bedroom was dark but all they could see and feel was each other and with each step, Trevor’s kisses became deeper, hungrier. Had Michael not known any better, he would’ve thought he would be Trevor’s next meal.

Michael sat on the bed, sliding his hands down around Trevor’s waist and pulling his shirt up. He chuckled when he saw Trevor’s abs adorned in _‘FUCK COPS’_ and scattered scar tissue. That was his Trevor all right- _his_ Trevor….Trevor was now his.

He planted kisses all along his abdomen, feeling Trevor’s hands roam through his hair. He could feel his diaphragm contracting, letting out a passionate sigh that just may have been the most erotic thing Michael had ever heard in his life. In return, Trevor cupped Michael’s face in his hands, eager to just taste his mouth again- in the onslaught, Michael had fallen back on the bed, drawing out a giggle between the two men.

“We’re going well aren’t we?”

They chuckled for a few moments before shuffling up to the headboard of the bed- Trevor crawled over towards Michael, craning his neck to continue their make out session. He settled in between Michael’s legs, grinding their erections together as he groaned into the kiss- the movement had sent a shiver of pleasure throughout both men.

“I’ve wanted you for so long Mikey…So long….” Trevor lamented all the time he could’ve spent building a life with Michael- sure he loved Jimmy and Tracey as if they were his own children but knowing that their father felt as he had for all that time..It was hard to not feel a little emotional over what could’ve been.

Michael’s fingers traced the scars along Trevor’s eyebrow and upper lip. “You have me now T, I love you. Always have. I thought I’d loved you like a brother but…” It was hard being this honest. “I missed you. I wanted you. I wanted this.” He grabbed the man’s muscular arms, trying to articulate his feelings without going to water.

Trevor made a beeline for Michael’s neck, tonguing his pulse and nibbling the skin every so often. As he did this, he slipped his hand around his torso, urging the other man to arch his back, freeing him of his jacket. He wanted him so very, very badly and could feel it in every nerve in his body. His penis strained painfully against his jeans and could feel that his best-friend-turned-lover was in the same predicament. The kisses he’d planted along his neck kept on becoming more fervent, more ravenous…it was entwined into every fibre of his being to completely ravage the man beneath him until he was a quivering mess.

Michael hooked his knee around Trevor’s, flipping the man onto his back. He grinned a rapacious grin down at the Canadian man, straddling his thighs and sliding his hands up Trevor’s t-shirt, finally slipping it off. In full view like this, with all of his scars and ink, he could see the man was truly beautiful.

“Come on Sugartits…you too.” Trevor smiled, undoing the bottom buttons on Michael’s black shirt. The other man quickly followed suit, undoing his top buttons until his hands met Trevor’s in the middle. He revealed a black undershirt that Trevor wasted no time in peeling up over his abdomen, shoulders and head- while he definitely had put on a few pounds thanks to his lackadaisical lifestyle and drinking habits, it had only covered the hardness underneath, build up over years of running away from cops and nailing guys in the teeth and gut. He’d filled out but there was something about him- he looked and was real compared to all of those lemmings back in LS that were running to their plastic surgeon every time they’d stuffed their faces with Burger Shot…He was natural and it was just what Trevor liked.

He propped himself up on his arms, staring at Michael’s solid frame. “Beautiful, Mikey.”

“You’re beautiful too…” Michael responded, genuinely smiling while running his fingertips down Trevor’s chest. After being told for years that he was getting too fat and needed to do lose weight, unblock his chakras, stop drinking, stop eating anything that tasted real, this and that by Amanda, it felt so wonderful to know that to the one he loved, he didn’t need to change how he looked.

He leaned down kiss Trevor whom returned his affection roughly- teeth clinked together, lips were nipped and their lungs were on the verge of asphyxia. He pulled him in close and started to grind painfully against him. As enthusiastic as Trevor was, Michael knew that the man he loved hadn’t known love or tenderness in his life so now everything was coming out at once. He was only doing what came naturally to him, which was go rough and hard with raw desperation. He wasn’t going to have an empty, nameless, faceless fuck this time however- Michael was going to make it count.

“T, T…..” he breathed as the man beneath him resumed nibbling his neck. “T, stop.”

Trevor looked up, fearful that he’d done something wrong. Even the slightest hardness in Michael’s voice stung like a poisonous barb.

Michael held both sides of his face, staring back at an expression that was trying not to be anxious, fearful and just plain scared. “Trevor…I want to make love to you. I want to do it right. You don’t have to go hard with me…I want it to last, ok?”

The uncertainty spread across his face like a rash. “Ok.”

Michael leaned in slowly, planting a soft, tender kiss on Trevor’s lips, feeling him go slack against the pillows. He lay back, letting Michael tongue his neck and collarbones, sending a painful longing to his hard cock. One of his hands clenched Michael’s hair while the other glided along his back, getting closer to his shoulders as the man left a trail of kisses along his chest and abs, leading down to the bulge in his pants.

“Now that looks like it’s aching, T…” Michael purred seductively as he ran his index finger along his length, pressing his palm gently into his balls. He leaned into Trevor’s ear. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want me to do.” He finished his words with a small peck below Trevor’s ear.

“Boots.” The Canadian breathed. “Get them off.”

Michael dropped his head, scraping his bottom teeth along Trevor’s sternum before standing up on his knees, untying the laces of Trevor’s boots. In his meticulous untying of his shoelaces and gentle slipping off of his boot, Trevor’s hard slowed down almost to a grinding halt in anticipation. He could feel every thread of his pants slide down over his hips, revealing a black, lacy pair of boy leg panties and taking a majority of the pressure off his hardness. Once the pants were completely off, Michael took his left ankle in hand, kissing it before flopping onto his elbows, tracing over the pattern his penis made in the underwear- sure they didn’t leave much to the imagination but Michael stuck to his word of making it last.

Trevor shuddered once he felt Michael’s tongue tracing up and down his inner thigh, sending what felt like liquid fire into his core. He could feel his face heat up and after a while, the sound of his involuntary moans filled his own ears as well as Michael’s.

Michael hooked one of his fingers over the tight elastic waistband of the panties, pulling them down at an achingly slow pace. Like a Jack in the Box, Trevor’s cock sprang out suddenly, standing proudly at full mast. While he had always claimed _“Mine ain’t nothin’ special, but my boy gets the job done”_ , from where Michael was sitting, he looked quite large- uncut and with a blue vein that ran down to his perineum like a river. The dryness on Michael’s tongue indicated that he’d been ogling it in awe.

Before the other man had the chance to whine from the neglect, Michael swallowed then wrapped his hand around his length, pulling back the foreskin. He looked up at Trevor whom had been staring at him with an open-mouthed expression that was utterly pornographic. “This is my first time doin’ this T, so bear with me.”

Trevor nodded silently, running his hand over Michael’s head and pressing gently, gesturing him to go down. With that, his dick became engulfed with the warm, wet heat of Michael’s mouth, making almost every muscle and tendon in his body pulsate. He could feel his chest rising and falling as Michael tried his best to improvise from memories of past blowjobs- unfortunately he didn’t have a nonexistent gag reflex like the various working girls who’d sucked him off in his life (one of whom he happened to make his soon to be ex-wife) so he opted to jerk him in time with his mouth.

He could feel Trevor’s knees trembling against his body as he came up with a distinctive rhythm that he was sure would please Trevor far more than starting off hard and fast; all wham, bam thank you ma’am. He had to make it count. He had to be better than every man, woman and inanimate object Trevor had fucked; he hadn’t lost his teenage drive and ego it seemed.

On the receiving end of things, Trevor’s mouth was ajar from vocalizing his enjoyment; he’d had his cock sucked by all manner of people for a variety of reasons (a lot of the time in exchange for drugs or cash) but for a first-timer, Michael was a natural. With every swipe of the man’s fingers and tongue, he could feel sweat beading from the pores along his brow and cheeks.

“Mikey…Mikey…” Trevor all but growled out, tightening his grip in Michael’s hair.

He raised his head with a string of spit connecting his lips to his cock. They’d gotten blissfully carried away with the task at hand, they’d started panting. The sight of Michael in between in thighs with that goddamn cute fucking look on his face just made him want to hurry up with what he was about to say.

“Fuck me Mikey. Now.”

Michael got up onto his elbows, kissing Trevor’s inner knee before getting up on his own knees. He stared down at his blissful partner as he slipped his fingers into the notches of his belt, undoing the buckle- Trevor looked so wonderful like this, just staring back with an expression that was so wonderfully indecent. He hadn’t felt this sexy undressing for someone in years- in the rare times with Amanda, her look said it all; he wasn’t the young hardbody she wanted. With the working girls, he felt old enough to be their father. With Trevor however, all of his attention was on him. He wasn’t fantasising about someone with harder abs and a better-looking waist. He wasn’t young enough to not understand that he just wanted to feel _close_ to someone for the night. He understood him and loved him more than anyone else and that was enough for him so slip down his pants and boxers with ease.

Trevor’s jaw dropped a little lower as Michael’s dick sprang out, proud like a soldier in salute while he kicked his expensive pants and shoes to the side. He was around the same size as Trevor, if not a little thicker. He’d spent so many long, lonely nights back in North Yankton jerking off to what he’d imagined Michael’s body to look like that when confronted with the sight, he was overwhelmed- he looked so fucking perfect. Trevor swung forward onto his knees, planting a passionate kiss on Michael’s mouth.

“We need lube,” Michael rasped as Trevor began to kiss down his chin, neck and clavicles. “Trev, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m not going to fuck you raw- where’s your lube?”

Instead of responding, Trevor twisted his body around to begin rummaging through his drawers on the search for lubricant. The other man didn’t complain- he had a spectacular view of Trevor’s gorgeous arse that made him bite his lip in anticipation.

Trevor turned back around on all fours, handing Michael the bottle before kissing his belly as the man fumbled with the lid. Michael gasped once he felt Trevor’s mouth on his cock, licking up the underside with the most adorably fuckable set of bedroom eyes, staring up at him.

He put a thumb on his forehead, stroking it as he marvelled at the sight. It would take a while before he could get used to having someone with their lips around his swollen cock being there because they genuinely wanted to be there, especially since that person was Trevor.

“Whoa T, if you keep going on like that, it’ll be over before we even start.” He jerked his hips, pulling his dick out of Trevor’s mouth. He’d earned a whine from Trevor as the man laid back on the bed, feet firmly mounted on the bedspread, leaving very little to the imagination.

Michael flipped open the cap of the lubricant, coating his index and middle finger in it. He’d remembered in the very few times he’d engaged in anal sex in his life (Amanda wasn’t a fan and the working girls charged extra), slipping his hand down the crook of Trevor’s taint, finding his entrance. As much as he would have loved to ram his cock into his arsehole and fuck him like his life depended on it, he didn’t want to hurt the man- he ran his fingers over it before pressing in slowly. As he breached him, he could feel Trevor’s body seizing up at the slow but nonetheless sudden exploratory invasion- Trevor was always on top, regardless of the gender, so the feeling was incredibly foreign to him. Nonetheless, he wanted to give himself to Michael. He was the only man he was willing to give himself to.

“Are you ok T?” Michael asked earnestly, thrusting in and out as slowly as he could.

“Yeah M, I‘m-” he managed before gasping suddenly, once Michael had inadvertently thrust directly into his prostate. “Right there Mikey. Right there.”

Michael smiled at Trevor’s reaction, picking up his pace a little more and relishing the deep, breathy sighs coming out of the man at the end of his fingers. It wasn’t before long that he began to curl and twist his fingers, trying to elicit more pleasurable moans and groans out of him; he had no clue as to how seductive and alluring he looked and his tightness and the contractions that came with it were the cherry on top of a very delicious cake.

“Mikey, now. I need you to fuck me.” He’d spread his legs a little wider, teetering between being so desperate in needing to be fucked that he became savage and breaking so beautifully under his desire. “Please. I love you and I need you to fuck me.”

Michael draped himself over Trevor, kissing him hungrily with his cock positioned between his arse cheeks. Trevor’s hands were both cradling his face as he shuffled down, locking his feet together at the small of Michael’s back. The moonlight came through the vertical blinds and reflected off the beads of sweat adorning their foreheads. They were pressed up against eachother, naked as the day they were born and so close that each man felt like they were melting into the other. It was finally happening.

“I love you too Trevor. If you say stop, I’ll stop, ok?”

Michael pecked the man’s lips before moving his hand to his cock, positioning it over his entrance while Trevor planted tiny kisses along his jawline. Once he found it, he pushed in at an achingly slow rate, drawing out a hiss that felt like a fissure to his nerves.

“I’m sorry!” He panicked as he saw Trevor’s face desperately trying to mask the pain. Latex he was used to. Silicone he was used to. A flesh-and-blood appendage attached to the man he loved? That’d take some getting used to.

“It’s ok…” He winced, trying to adjust to a familiar yet so very unfamiliar sting and burn. “Just move.”

Michael dropped his head, gently kissing Trevor’s clavicle and trying his hardest to not come on the spot. This was for him, it was all for him but the man was that tight that it caused Michael’s thighs to tremble at the sensation. After a few seconds, he began to move his hips slowly until Trevor’s winces developed into long, languid moans.

“Oh-ohhhhhhhh, Mikey…I love you, fuck….” Trevor mewled as he tightened his grip around Michael with his arms and legs.

“I love you Trev. Fuck me, you’re tight!” Michael all but choked out.

Trevor grinned as he leaned into his ear, growling “Soon, cupcake- for now though, I just need you.”

They kissed rough and quickly, nipping the other’s lips and gripping onto hips, backs, waists and shoulders, letting out small sobs of pleasure as they grinded together. Trevor felt a warm agony spread throughout his chest, face and cock as Michael continued to thrust into him, encouraged by the sounds his partner made and the inside of him contracting around his own appendage.

Trevor let out a deep, guttural groan when Michael’s rhythm became more sudden, harder, deeper. He arched his back a little, holding onto the Canadian’s hips and tilting them, thrusting hard and enjoying every gasp, every growl, every delicious sigh he could hear.  

“Yeah…Mikey, that’s it. Keep doing that, keep doing that!” He whined urgently, being met with Michael slamming his hips harder into him. He had to admit it was a gorgeous sight, seeing Trevor unravel like he did; all that time spent walking around with an air of arrogance and an even cockier grin only to dissolve into a moaning mess of pleasure- well, there was a twisted beauty in it.

“Look at me.” He breathed, holding Trevor’s face and staring into his eyes. Trevor’s mouth hung open, eyes staring back intently and just plain looking vulnerable. Had Michael had not had his dick up inside him, he would’ve thought he was going to shatter if you touched him in the wrong place. He just looked so fragile, so vulnerable…like he’d never experienced anything like this in this life. This was what they’d been waiting for. This was what they’d been missing- just staring at one another and seeing complete and utter devotion in return. As fantastic as this was, this wasn’t just a simple fuck into a mattress, grinding together to satisfy a primal need with the first person they could find; they were both there, baring their rawest forms to one another in the hope that they wouldn’t push the other away. This was the intimacy they’d only dreamt of while pretending to be asleep in all of those dingy motel beds they’d shared twenty years before.

“Ohhhfuck, Michael,” Trevor pleaded. “Fuck, I love you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking longUNH!” He leaned into Michael’s shoulder, breathing shallow but hot breaths into Michael’s shoulder.

“You have me. Always. Oh god…” His cock was still slick and wet with lube, slamming into Trevor’s abused hole seemingly of its own accord. He arched his back a little more, shifting his weight to one of his elbows. He took one hand off Trevor’s hip and gingerly moved it over to his penis, red and longing painfully for attention. As Michael began to jerk him as he pounded harder into his prostate, Trevor’s eyes dilated, causing him to inhale a great gulping gasp.

“Fuck, Mikey! I’m not gonna fuckin’ last long!” He whined at the sensation, arching back into the bed. He had no idea how beautiful he looked while at the mercy of another.

“Just enjoy it baby.” He ran his fingers up and down Trevor’s length, failing to cease his rhythm. The movements felt like electric sparks igniting all around his hips, desire pooling in his belly and warning him that he was mere minutes away from erupting in orgasm.

Trevor gripped the skin on Michael’s hips, dragging them down in a hard, rough rhythm, unable to articulate just how desperate he was to come. With his, he tilted his hips and locked his legs up around Michael’s torso, allowing him to go balls-deep inside of him. He could feel every inch of Michael’s cock slide in and out of him, hips smacking loudly against hips. He groaned from his core, unable to think or breathe from the amount of pleasure raging like fever throughout him.

“Kiss me….” He exhaled, whining against Michael’s lips as he thrusted fervently. The way Trevor bit his lip as he pulled away made Michael buck his hips harder, determined to make Trevor feel as good as he did. With each thrust, with each stroke, with each grope, groan and whine, Trevor’s arse contracted so nicely around his cock that Michael could feel his own impatient orgasm brimming closer and closer to the surface.

“Oh God, come with me Mikey.” His words became more and more of a stammer. “Wanna feel you come in me.”

Michael focused his twisted expression. “Together, ready?” He steadied his pace before a nod from Trevor gave him permission to pump into him as if his life depended on it. Their breaths became more rapid, tangling them together in love, attraction and desire in a world where only they existed. It was too good to be true, yet was true and the realisation of such just stretched out their longing desperation.

Their bodies seized up, shuddering as they leaned into eachother, groaning hard. “OOHHHHNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

Muscles pulsated with orgasmic tremors that felt like a drum roll against their nervous systems. Fingers dug into skin as they rode the wave of pleasure together, feeling ropes of semen stick to their bellies. Beads of sweat rolled down temples, sides, calves and thighs as the last shocks stunned them- the raw adrenaline that coursed through them was far better than any drug, any drink, any cheap thrill they could think of. Their chests rose and fell and the air was thick with lust and love…so much that once Michael came back down to earth, he noticed Trevor’s eyes, glassy with unshed tears.

The sight made Michael’s stomach plunge. “What’s wrong Trev? Did I hurt you?” He cradled his face with one hand, trying to gain a proper look at the man he loved.

Trevor’s face and eyes tightened as he shook his head, stroking Michael’s wrist as he could feel his cum drip out of him. “It’s nothing….” He didn’t want to break in front of Michael. Not now.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.” Michael’s voice hardened, desperate to know what had upset his partner so much after they’d made love for the first time. He was in no way angry, just hurt that Trevor was hurt.

He took a deep breath before staring into Michael’s beautiful blue eyes, struggling to keep it together. “I meant what I said Mikey. I love you and I fucking well meant it. I don’t want this to be all we can have together. I don’t want to lose you again.” He clenched Michael’s hand tighter, swallowing his melancholy. He could feel himself unravel- Michael had that effect on him. As much as he’d have loved to threaten hell on the man if he ever left him, he couldn’t; all he could feel were cracks forming in his heart at the prospect of being left in the dust once again.

Michael leaned over, kissing him gently. “I’d almost lost you many, many times over these past few months and I don’t want it to happen again. I drove all the way from the cliffs of Mount Chiliad because I had to tell you I loved you- it was like I didn’t have a choice anymore, I just love you, no questions asked. I meant it and I’ll mean it the next day, the next month, the next year, the next fifty years. You have me, Trev- I’m yours. Yours only. We’ll no doubt fight and bitch at eachother at some point, but I’ll love you like I’ve never loved anyone else. I want to be with you and I hope you want that too.”

The tenderness of which Michael declared his love set him at ease- he was going to be there in the morning. He was going to be there in the afternoon, at night, when bastards needed a kicking, when he was happy or when he felt alone and just needed to be fucking _held_ by someone. He meant what he said.

 Trevor snaked his hand up the back of Michael’s hair, grasping it as he kissed him deeply, sobbing in happiness. “I love you.” He whispered between kisses.

“And I’ll always love you.” Michael said, holding both sides of his face, resting his forehead against Trevor’s.

They entwined their fingers and calves together, breathing in one another’s scent and just basking in the warmth of having the person across from them want to be there, holding their hand and knowing that they wouldn’t slink out of the bed in shame in the morning. All the fights, all the false starts, all the lonely wanks, hurt and sadness over the years, it’d paid off. It didn’t matter who would come after them next- they had eachother once again and this time, it was for real. They were two in a pair, plain and simple and in their case, how they got there wasn’t what mattered; they were there now, and it was going to take hell and high water to split them apart. Even then, they had the mettle to put up one hell of a fight.


End file.
